I wake up to a sound.

A low, steady buzzing.
Not loud enough to be obvious,
but loud enough that my brain immediately decides:

Something is wrong.

The house is dark.
Still.
Everyone is asleep.

And yet—

There it is again.
Buzzing.

My brain switches on instantly.

Not gently.
Not gradually.
Full activation.

Within seconds, I am no longer a tired woman in bed.
I am a detective.
A highly trained, deeply suspicious investigator of potential domestic disasters.

First thought:

Electrical fault.

Second thought:

Fire risk.

Third thought:

The boiler.

Of course it’s the boiler. It’s always the boiler when something feels vaguely ominous at 2am.

I get out of bed.

The sound is still there.
Low. Persistent.

I step onto the landing.
…It gets quieter.

That’s interesting.

I pause.
Recalibrate.
New theory forming.

While I’m up, I go to the bathroom.
Because even in a potential emergency, we multitask.

Then I check the children.
All safe.
All asleep.
No rogue machinery in sight.
Good.

Back to the mission.

I return to the bedroom.
And the sound—
Is louder.

Now we are narrowing things down.

The noise is not:

• downstairs
• in the walls
• in the children’s rooms
•
It is… here.

In my room.

I stand still.
Listen.
Track it.
Locate it.

The drawer.

My bedside drawer.

At this point, my brain is running multiple scenarios:

• something electrical has malfunctioned
• something is overheating
• something is about to become very inconvenient
•
I open the drawer.

And I am greeted by a glowing, vibrating, aggressively pink light source.

My vibrator.

Alive.
Awake.
Thriving, apparently.

Fully turned on.
In its case.
Inside its box.
Inside my drawer.
At 2am.

There is a brief moment where my brain refuses to update the situation.
Because this does not fit any of the models it had prepared.

I stand there, staring at it.
It continues… enthusiastically.

I fumble with it in the dark.
Trying to:

• turn it off
• get it back into its casing
• reassemble the situation with some dignity
•
This proves harder than expected.

Everything is slightly too small, too fiddly, too loud.

Eventually, I give up.

I put it back in the drawer.
Not neatly. Not properly.
Just… contained.

I close the drawer.

Stand there for a moment.
And say, out loud, to no one:
“That was weird.”

In the morning, this is funny.
At 2am, it was a full investigative operation.

The reality?

Most likely:
• a battery glitch
• a charge fluctuation
• a tiny electrical misfire
•
A small, harmless object doing something slightly unpredictable.
But my brain didn’t experience it as “small”.

It experienced it as:

unknown sound
in a silent environment
at night

Which triggers:

pattern recognition
threat scanning
full environmental surveillance

Within seconds, I had:

• mapped the house
• checked the children
• eliminated variables
• identified the source
•
Efficient.
Thorough.
Slightly dramatic, perhaps.

This is what AuDHD does.

It doesn’t wait to see if something is a problem.

It prepares for the possibility that it might be.

Quickly. Completely. Without hesitation.

Sometimes that looks like:

• organisation
• awareness
• sharp observation
•
And sometimes it looks like:

…investigating a rogue vibrator at 2am like a Victorian ghost hunter.

Anyway.

Let this be a gentle reminder:

Check your devices.
Charge them properly.
And be aware—

Some of them may have ambitions.

— Frost ❄️